


A Moment of Regret

by iam93percentstardust



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: Petunia Dursley wasn’t expecting to wake up to a baby on the front step. She certainly wasn’t expecting it to be the child of her estranged sister. But, now Petunia has a choice to make: what to do with the infant Harry Potter.





	A Moment of Regret

**Author's Note:**

> I know it’s not a popular opinion, but having lost my best friend to a freak heart attack after a fight in which we’d never made up, I often found myself sympathizing with a younger Petunia Dursley. Definitely not with how she treated Harry but certainly with how she would have reacted to Lily’s death. Yes, she had pushed Lily away but this was still her sister. The only thing she has left of her sister now is this little boy who barely resembles Lily, except in his eyes. I can imagine how much she must have been torn between honoring Lily’s memory and holding true to her beliefs. In the books, JKR never really presented a human side to the Dursleys. She showed them as cartoonish and abusive, which makes sense as the books are written from Harry’s perspectives, but I feel that it’s not fair to the Dursleys. Snape got his moment of redemption and even Voldemort himself got a bit of explanation for why he was the way he was but the Dursleys got nothing, other than Dudley’s brief comment “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” So, while I could never condone how the Dursleys treated Harry, I hope that this explains a bit more about the thought process of Petunia Dursley at least.

Petunia Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, wasn’t too sure if she was happy or not to say that she was perfectly normal.

It was true that, outwardly, she reveled in her normalness but she could never quite forget the summer Lily had gotten her letter to Hogwarts. She couldn’t forget that she, Petunia, had written the Headmaster asking to go to Hogwarts. She couldn’t forget his response that, as a Muggle and thereby having no magical blood, she couldn’t go to Hogwarts with Lily.

She couldn’t forget that even now she still sometimes longed to have magic or that she hadn’t said such cruel words to Lily.

But she had and the years had gone by since they had last spoken cordially- ten of them, in fact. Oh, Lily tried to reach out to her but, just as Petunia couldn’t forget that she had wanted Lily’s magic, she also couldn’t forget the fact that her sister had left her behind. Besides, ten years of acting like she hated everything to do with magic had internalized the feelings.

And it wasn’t like she hadn’t suffered at the hands of the Wizarding community. There had been the Snape boy’s cruel words and the time he’d deliberately snapped a branch over her head. There were the disdainful glances she received when sending Lily off on the train. And, of course, there was the mockery from Lily’s husband, James Potter.

Yes, the more Petunia thought about it, the more she understood that any normal person should naturally hate magic, whether or not they knew it was real.

That didn’t stop her from regretting her hasty words to Lily. In fact, she would probably have tried to fix it if James Potter and Vernon Dursley had not been in the picture.

But Vernon whole-heartedly supported Petunia’s hatred of magic. He encouraged her estrangement from her sister and got just as she angry as she if Lily was brought up. As such, she hadn’t tried to contact Lily since they’d met James Potter. And so life continued in its own boring, normal way.

Until it didn’t.

* * *

 

Petunia had woken early that morning to the sound of Dudley’s screams. She didn’t mind much at the early hour; Vernon needed to be up anyway and, in her eyes, Dudley could do no wrong. They went through their morning routine. She gossiped, Dudley screamed, and Vernon hummed.

None of them noticed the owl flutter past the window.

Vernon left for work and Petunia set about her housework for the day. After noting that it looked like rain, she closed the curtains and so missed all of the owls swooping by- and the cat on the street corner.

Around noon, Dudley decided that he needed candy. So, after grabbing an umbrella in one hand and hoisting Dudley in the other (she would never be so low as to put him in a stroller), Petunia set out down the street. It was slow going. After all, Dudley liked to kick- er, was a wiggly boy.

It was at the convenience store that Dudley learned a new word- “won’t.” Petunia was delighted even if the customers in line behind her weren’t (she hit one of them with her umbrella for his impudence).

Vernon didn’t return until late that night. He looked nervous and worried but she didn’t think anything of it. Then, as they were settling down in the living room after putting Dudley to bed, Vernon asked, “Er- Petunia, dear- you haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?”

She felt the familiar twinge of jealousy and replied sharply, “No. Why?”

Vernon looked sheepish for even bringing up the subject. However, he continued, “Funny stuff on the news. Owls…shooting stars…and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…” He looked like he had more to say but snapped his mouth shut.

Exasperated, Petunia snapped, “So?”

“Well, I just thought…maybe…it was something to do with…you know…her lot.”

Petunia felt that didn’t even warrant a reply. The thought was so ridiculous. Lily’s lot was so secretive; they would never risk being out in the open like that. She sipped her tea angrily, thinking the conversation finished.

But Vernon said, obviously trying to be casual about it, “Their son- he’d be about Dudley’s age now, wouldn’t he?”

She glared at him. “I suppose so.”

“What’s his name again? Howard, isn’t it?”

Why on earth did Vernon want to know his nephew’s name? Even so, she replied, “Harry.” Then, wanting to shoot a barb at the absentee Lily, she added, “Nasty, common name, if you ask me.”

Vernon looked disappointed, though she couldn’t imagine why. “Oh, yes. Yes, I quite agree.”

Petunia eyed him suspiciously for the remainder of the night. Vernon never actively sought out information on the Wizarding community. What could he possibly want with it? Well, it didn’t matter, she told herself. It couldn’t affect her.

How wrong she was.

Petunia slept soundly that night. She woke once around midnight. She shuffled her way to the bathroom, pausing when she happened to glance out the window and saw that the street outside was darker than usual. But she was too tired to really care and forgot about it as soon as she fell asleep again.

She woke before the sun and headed downstairs to start breakfast and to set the milk bottles out. But all thoughts of breakfast flew out of her head the moment she opened the front door. She took one look at the bundle on her front step and screamed.

Immediately, the bundle came alive and began shrieking almost as loudly as she. In that moment, Petunia realized that someone had left a human infant on her doorstep.

Recognizing an opportunity for gossip- and knowing that the neighbors were likely to have woken- she gathered up the baby and went back to the kitchen. Miraculously, neither Vernon nor Dudley had woken at the sound of her screams.

She went to unwrap the infant from its coverings but noticed the letter first. Her heart stopped: she knew that loopy handwriting. She hadn’t seen it in ten years but she couldn’t mistake the handwriting of Albus Dumbledore.

Ignoring the child on the kitchen table, Petunia opened the letter.

_Dear Mrs. Dursley,_

_I am sorry to inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, and her husband were killed this past night. As I’m sure you know, Lily Potter was an integral part of the anti-Voldemort movement. For her actions, she has been killed. However, through her bravery and love, her son, Harry, has been spared and has caused the downfall of one of the Darkest wizards of our age._

_I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how important Harry is to the Wizarding community and how much his life is in danger. Voldemort’s supporters are still at large. But Lily’s death has placed a powerful protection charm over Harry. As long as he stays with someone sharing Lily’s blood, he is safe._

_I am leaving Harry in your care. I trust that you will treat Harry with all the love and care that you would treat your own son with._

_I am terribly sorry for your loss but I hope that Lily’s sacrifice will not be in vain._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Petunia stood still as a statue. Lily, dead? It didn’t seem real. Surprisingly, an unfamiliar feeling of guilt bubbled up inside her. All those times she could have reached out to Lily and she hadn’t. Now there were no more chances.

Petunia read back over the letter and frowned. It sounded remarkably dispassionate and there was so little explanation. During the summers, when Lily talked about school, she had mentioned this Voldemort but what if she hadn’t? Petunia would have been so lost.

And Harry, a hero? Harry was only a year old. He couldn’t be a hero. She assumed the boy was magical. Well, that just wouldn’t do. Petunia had sworn no magic in the house and she was going to stick to it. Best not to tell him anything at all as he grew. Maybe, if he didn’t know about the magic, it wouldn’t happen.

For the first time, she turned her attention to Harry. He had gone back to sleep after being brought inside. At least he was quiet, Petunia thought to herself. She continued her earlier task of removing the blankets from him.

The likeness of James Potter greeted her. Petunia’s lip curled. Not even a freckle to remind her of Lily. Then Harry awoke, presumably cold from the removal of the blankets. Startled, Petunia found herself staring into Lily’s green eyes.

They seemed to be reproaching her for her earlier thoughts. They asked her how she could possibly think of keeping quiet about his past. They asked how she could dishonor her sister in this way.

Uncharacteristically, Petunia was flooded with regret. Harry was right. How could she have even entertained the thought of not telling Harry about his heritage? If what Dumbledore said was true, then Lily was a hero. Harry had the right to know about that, at least.

She felt torn. On the one hand, she knew that she had the chance to start over with Harry. She could make things right with Lily’s son, things she couldn’t make right with Lily herself. She could give Harry the upbringing he deserved.

And yet… she just couldn’t see herself simply allowing magic into the life she’d built for herself. She hated the very thought of magic. This went against so many of her beliefs. Petunia had spent a decade arguing against magic. How could she just throw all of that away?

Unsure of what to do, she sank into a chair and stared at Harry until she heard Vernon come into the kitchen.

“What’s Dudders doing out of his chair?” he asked, not seeming to notice the tuft of black hair.

“It’s not Dudley,” she whispered.

“Eh? What’s that?”

“This is Harry,” Petunia said louder.

“Harry who?”

“Harry Potter.”

Vernon turned from the refrigerator. His eyebrows were drawn close together. “Why?” he asked simply.

Petunia willed her eyes to stay dry. As calmly as she could, she said, “The Potters are dead.” Somehow, saying it out loud was harder than reading it.

Vernon seemed to take the tightness in her voice as anger, not grief. “Serves them right,” he said enthusiastically. “Those good-for-nothing layabouts. They probably got what they deserved.”

Petunia felt her heart tighten at his callous words. “That was my sister, Vernon.”

He didn’t seem to understand. “You hated her, Petunia,” he reminded his wife.

She didn’t have it in her to tell him that she’d hated Lily’s magic, not Lily herself. “We’ve been asked to look after Harry,” she said instead.

Petunia wasn’t sure what reaction she’d been expecting but Vernon’s face reddening in anger wasn’t it. “What?” he bellowed. Petunia winced at the noise. “We tell them we want nothing to do with them and now, they up and die and leave their worthless brat with us!”

“It’s only until he comes of age, Vernon.”

“Only until- that’s seventeen years! What about Dudley? He deserves his parents’ full attention?”

“Harry is staying with us,” she said sharply.

Vernon snapped his mouth shut, having not expected Petunia to argue with him. But the more Petunia thought about it, the more she knew she was right. She owed it to Lily to take Harry in.

“But-” Vernon started to say.

“He stays,” she repeated, more firmly this time.

“Fine,” he said heavily. It was then that Dudley started crying. Petunia started to leave to take care of him. Then, she doubled back and grabbed Harry, who was still sleeping. She wasn’t sure that she trusted Vernon to be alone with the child.

When she returned- with Dudley and without Harry- Vernon seemed calmer. “How did they die?”

“Why?” Petunia asked suspiciously.

“We’ll have to tell the boy something.”

“They were killed by a Dark wizard. Harry somehow stopped him.”

“That won’t do,” Vernon commented. “Don’t want him getting a big head. We’ll tell him his parents died in a car crash.”

Petunia nodded. That made sense to her. When he was older, they would tell him the truth. By that time, he’d be old enough to understand and handle the fame.

“And we’ll keep quiet about the magic,” he added thoughtfully, stroking his mustache. “We said no magic in this house and we’ll keep it no magic.”

In an instant, Petunia saw the solution to her dilemma. Vernon could make the decision for her. If he decided to keep Harry’s magic quiet, then who was she to argue? She had done her part in honoring Lily’s memory by keeping Harry. Anything after that was extra. Let Harry discover his unnatural magic for himself.

After Vernon left for work, Petunia slipped back upstairs to the nursery. Unsurprisingly, Harry was awake. He looked around curiously at the luxurious room (only the best for Dudley).

When Petunia entered, Harry’s attention focused on her. He didn’t gurgle or even cry the way Dudley did when he saw her. Harry was silent. Petunia even got the feeling that he was judging her.

She squirmed uncomfortably under his piercing gaze. Turning away, she started straightening up the room. But she could feel those green eyes follow her.

She couldn’t stand it anymore. Petunia turned back to Harry and met his judging gaze. “I have done nothing wrong,” she proclaimed. “I’m giving you a home. That’s all I’ve been asked to do.”

Harry continued to gaze reproachfully at her. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” she shrieked. “There’s nothing more I can do!”

All day, she felt as though Lily was judging her for her actions. Harry’s eyes weren’t helping. It felt like Lily was still watching her.

Finally, she placed the child in the cupboard under the stairs. She had no business there so he couldn’t watch- and judge- her. She decided that she would ask Vernon if it could become a permanent change.

It just wasn’t fair. Why did Lily have to die when her child lived? Why did she and Vernon have to be left with this boy?

Whether the wizarding world thought he was a hero or not, Petunia knew better. Harry Potter was just a boy with remarkable luck. He was the reason her sister was gone. For that, she would always hate him.


End file.
